"What?"
cried Murray, full of glad amazement; "is it possible that my cousin's
faithful band has reached its destination? None other belonging to
Bothwell Castle had any chance of escaping its jailer's hands."
Kirkpatrick interrupted Stephen's reply by saying that while their
guests were at the board he would watch the arrival of certain
expresses from two brave Drummonds, each of whom was to send him a
hundred men: "So, my good Lord Andrew," cried he, striking him on the
shoulder, "shall the snow-launch gather that is to fall on Edward to
his destruction."
Murray heartily shared his zeal, and bidding him a short adieu,
followed Stephen and Ker into the hall. A haunch of venison of
Glenfinlass smoked on the board, and goblets of wine from the bounteous
cellars of Sir John Scott brightened the hopes which glowed in every
heart.
While the young chieftains were recruiting their exhausted strength,
Stephen sat at the table to satisfy the anxiety of Murray to know how
the detachment from Bothwell had come to Craignacoheilg, and by what
fortunate occurrence, or signal act of bravery, Wallace could have
escaped with his whole train from the foe surrounding Cartlane Craigs.
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